


When the night falls on you, you don't know what to do

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Series: TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel's Asexuality Fics [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Aromantic, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Betrayal, Coulson Lives, Fury is a liar who lies, Gen, Grief, Maria and Phil are BFFs, primary relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:56:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria Hill doesn't have a boyfriend or partner.  She just has a sister she never sees, and a best friend she does. Or she used to, anyway - losing Phil Coulson's like losing a f***ing limb.</p><p>But not all is as it seems.</p><p>(Sequel to 'Walking like a man, hitting like a hammer.')</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the night falls on you, you don't know what to do

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Walking like a man, hitting like a hammer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/924291) by [TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel). 



> So I wrote a lighthearted fic in which aromantic!asexual!Maria Hill is bros with Coulson. For a lot of aromantic aces, friendships are their primary relationships, and I started thinking, what if her friendship with Coulson was her primary relationship by the time of the Avengers? What would losing him mean? So, here, have some angst.

** When the night falls on you, you don't know what to do **

Maria misses Phil like a fucking missing limb. She gets on with things anyway, of course, because in the greater scheme of things there are things going on that are far more important than the fact that Maria just lost her best friend. But it _hurts_ , and continuing on, remaining focused and professional in the face of that loss, is harder than anything Maria has ever done.

She calls Fury on the use of Coulson’s trading cards to motivate the Avengers, but lets it slide after that. It’s a dirty trick, and Phil would kill him for it ( _they’re vintage_ ), but potentially the entire world is at stake here. Maria tells herself repeatedly to focus on the bigger picture. She doesn’t have room for anger here, no matter how justified. Besides, it hardly matters now, now that Phil’s – 

Dead.

But later, once the world has been saved, and everyone is taking a quiet moment of celebration, Maria goes back and collects the cards, one by one, and tries to clean off the blood as best she can, with carefully-dampened paper towel. It’s dried on some of them, and on some it smears horribly, but she gets the worst of it off the eighth card, the one with a black and white photo of Captain America carrying a kid. It was one of two cards Coulson hadn’t collected himself: they had been his grandfather’s, and Coulson had inherited them upon his death. Coulson always treasured those two cards the most, even though they weren’t the most valuable. Maria puts the cards safely away in her locker, and doesn’t say anything to anyone about it. She just goes back to work, as though nothing more has happened than an alien invasion.

The loss of Coulson doesn’t hurt any less keenly as the month wears on. New York is slowly being put back together, the helicarrier repaired, funerals and memorials being held for everyone they lost in the attacks. Fury and Maria are in deep shit with the World Council right now, but Maria doesn’t care. The idea that six people, three of them ordinary humans, could defeat an entire extraterrestrial army was laughable, but somehow the Avengers did it. New York is still standing, its population mostly alive, and that’s what matters. Phil would be so _proud_ –

Every time Maria has to send Sitwell out instead of Coulson, it tears something open all over again, but she ignores it. _Keep Calm and Carry On_ might be a stupid meme, but there’s enough truth in it that Maria values the sentiment, and when someone puts the poster up in the break room she doesn’t have it taken down even though the poster is against regulations. 

There’s no one for her to have drinks with and mock while they bitch about their jobs, no one to exchange meaningful glances with when something’s going on or someone has just done something especially idiotic. No one to share stupid jokes with, or share SHIELD gossip with, no one to back her up when some moron agent gives her lip because she’s a woman. There’s an empty hole in Maria’s life, an empty hole in SHIELD, and Maria almost can’t stand it. She manages somehow, all the same, because she has to, but it’s a cold hard road she’s walking alone.

At night she thinks about what a stupid move it was, trying to take on Loki alone, even if she understands what motivated Phil to do it. Did he know he was likely to get himself killed? Being Coulson, he must have had some idea. Did he know his death would bring the Avengers together? If the son of a bitch went in there to face Loki, with that idea in his head… Well. Maria would love to be angry at him, but it’s hard to be angry with someone you miss that badly, who’s already paid the ultimate price for any stupidity on their part.

Mostly, Maria just wishes Coulson were _here_.

And then, a month after Coulson’s death, Fury tells her one of the truths he’s been hiding.

* * *

“Agent Coulson is alive,” Fury says without preamble, and Maria’s entire world comes to a halt.

“What?”

“He flat-lined multiple times on the way to medical and during surgery,” Fury says gently, “and he’s spent the last month in a coma. Medical weren’t sure he was going to make it. He woke up yesterday. Until now, it was need-to-know.”

Part of Maria can’t believe it. She’s spent the last month _mourning_ Phil. But another part of her is blooming with hope, where before she was stone-cold and lifeless. 

Then the rest of it hits her.

“You- you _lied_ …”

Maria can feel herself losing it for the first time in all the years since she joined SHIELD, her careful control coming apart at the seams.

“I have exactly two people in this world, my sister and my best friend, and you decided to let me think one of them was _dead_ because it was _need-to-know?_ ”

Maria wants to scream at him, howl her anger and the blaze of pain she feels, wild and torrential. Instead she bites her lip so hard it draws blood, and stalks out of Fury’s office.

The look on her face sends people scurrying out of her way in the hallways, and when Maria gets to her office she closes the door behind her, and locks it.

Maria’s hands tremble, then her whole body is trembling, and she’s sobbing, in relief and joy and so much rage it blurs her vision. 

Maria has always known that Fury will lie if he needs to, manipulate whoever he needs to. As Stark said, his secrets have secrets. But this is so fucking _personal,_ it’s – this isn’t a lie: it’s a _betrayal_.

Maria is capable of forgiving a lot of things, and of handling a lot more, but betrayal is not and never has been one of them.

She has a shift scheduled right now, but instead Maria takes the next quinjet down to New York. On the way, she calls Pepper Potts.

She knows the woman by reputation, of course, but they’ve never met in person. Maria is already half-regretting dialling her number when Potts’ face appears on the screen.

“Good afternoon.” Potts appears politely interested, her smile professional, and Maria just can’t do that right now.

“Phil Coulson is alive,” she blurts out, and there’s a long, long silence as Potts’ face changes.

“I’m sorry,” Maria says as the silence stretches out. “I probably shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that. But I just found out, and I know you were his friend, and–”

Maria finds herself as a loss for what to say next. _I needed to talk to someone who would be just as overjoyed, and upset at the deception?_ There’s silence again.

“You must be Maria,” Potts says finally. Maria nods.

“Deputy Director Hill. Yes. I–” Maria feels herself crumbling around the edges again. “Coulson’s my best friend, and I just found out the Director was deliberately keeping the information from me. I can’t remember the last time I felt this angry.” Maria realises she’s rambling. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“It’s fine.” Potts looks like she’s struggling with emotions of her own. Her eyes are wet. “Really. Thank you for telling me.” Her sincerity is obvious. “It’s… you don’t know what a relief it is. God, _Phil_.” Potts gives a little sobbing laugh. “Do you know where he is?”

“No,” says Maria, “but I was hoping that Stark can find out.”

Potts smiles. It’s teary and wobbly, but also a little savage. Maria finds she relates completely.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

* * *

It turns out that Coulson is recovering in a private SHIELD facility in upstate new York. The only one with the clearance to stop Maria from going there is Fury, and she’s pretty sure he won’t even try.

Phil smiles weakly when he sees her.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up.”

Maria feels her expression fracture.

“Fury’s an asshole,” she says succinctly.

Coulson gets it instantly.

“He didn’t tell you?” His eyebrows draw together in mild outrage.

“Need-to-know,” Maria explains sardonically.

“I’m sorry,” says Coulson genuinely. “It never occurred to me he hadn’t told you.”

“I might be Deputy Director, but even I’m not always kept in the loop,” Maria says bitterly. She’s never resented that fact nearly as much as she does right now.

“Hey.” Stark sticks his head in the room. “Can we come in yet? Because Pepper is dying to hug him and Barton is jiggling like he needs to pee, and Romanov’s face is scaring me.”

“Oh, God,” Coulson says faintly.

Maria raises an eyebrow at him.

“Captain Rogers is in Iowa at the moment,” she tells Coulson, “but he sends his regards and best wishes. As for Stark, who do you think found you. Like hell I was going to ask Fury after the stunt he pulled.” She glances at Stark. “Let everyone in. We can all yell at him for being the kind of stupid asshole who takes on a homicidal god single-handed later.”

Stark gives her a look of surprised approval.

“I see why Pepper likes you,” he says, and disappears for a moment to tell the others that they can come in.

Everyone files in – Stark, Potts, bursting into tears at the sight of Phil, Barton, with dark circles under his eyes and an expression of terrible guilt, Romanov, with a tiny barely-there smile to see Coulson alive and awake – and there’s a babble of sound as everyone tries to talk to Coulson at once.

Maria realises her hands are shaking again, and all of a sudden she has to get _out_. She doesn’t stop to explain, and is out the door in an instant. The hallway is cool and done in bland colours, and Maria closes her eyes and digs her fingernails into her palms until the overwhelming urge to cry passes. She finds herself breathing deep, slow breaths, and when she opens her eyes, she sees that Stark is standing there watching her.

“Huh. I guess you do have feelings,” he says, and it’s such a ridiculous statement that Maria snorts. “Long day, I’m guessing.”

“Very,” Maria agrees.

“You want to talk about it?”

Maria looks at Stark. She’s never liked him much – too much trouble and reckless disregard for rules that are there for a reason – but he’s watching her carefully, his eyes full of understanding, and in spite of herself Maria likes him better than she did before.

She lets out a long breath and goes for honesty.

“I want to punch Fury in the face.”

“A noble goal. But right now, Agent is lying in a hospital bed waiting for you to walk back in and talk to him, so you should probably go punch Fury later.”

“I’m not going to punch him.” Maria’s voice comes out a little regretful. “I just really want to.”

“Come on,” Stark says kindly, laying a hand on her shoulder. She lets him. “Go talk to Agent.”

With a deep sigh, Maria does.

* * *

Later that evening she’s back on the helicarrier, looking for Fury. She finds him standing in the conference room with the big plate-glass windows, staring out into the endless sky. He doesn’t turn around at first. Maria waits. Finally he turns to face her.

“I’m not going to apologise.”

Maria snorts loudly.

“Big surprise there.” She adds as a deliberate afterthought, “Sir.”

“I did what I thought was right,” said Fury.

“Really, sir? That’s the line you’re going to use on me?” Maria can’t help herself. “You know what half your problem is, sir? There’s lines you don’t cross, I know that, but there’s lines you do. Everything you do is so interwoven with secrecy that sometimes the only person who can make an informed decision is you.” Maria is breathing harshly, furious all over again. As Deputy Director, there are things she is supposed to _know_. “Someone once told me the first step in the wrong direction is when you’re willing to do whatever it takes for what _you_ believe is right.”

“Consensus is not necessarily indicative of rightness,” Fury responds gravely, frowning seriously.

“With all due respect, it’s still a hell of a lot better than a lone dictator.” Maria takes a deep breath. “It rankles on both a professional and personal level that you didn’t tell me about Coulson. I’m the Deputy Director. If you don’t trust me–”

“I trust you as much as I can afford to trust anyone, Hill,” Fury says bluntly, but not unkindly.

“But you couldn’t trust me with the information that Coulson was in a coma?”

Unexpectedly Fury gives a gusty sigh.

“I thought it was better to keep it secret until he was out of the woods. I realise now that this was a mistake, but we all had enough to do without worrying about Coulson.”

“Worry is better than grief,” Maria says quietly, and Fury inclines his head in acknowledgement.

“Next time, should there be a next time, I’ll do things differently.” It's a quiet promise.

“Good.” Maria sighs herself, and nods. “This stunt is going to make it damn hard to trust you for a while, Nick.”

“For that, I _am_ sorry.” Fury looks genuinely contrite.

“Yeah,” Maria says as she leaves, “so am I.”


End file.
